As the shadows deepened in my room, I lay pondering the events of the past hour. I had just received the most incredible blowjob of my life, and from a married professional at that! It all started when I had thought how much I would love to have Mrs. Gordon – Cassandra, bring me off. I never said a word to her about my desires, and yet she had complied willingly.
There was a polite knock at my door, and before I could answer, it was pushed open by a male orderly carrying a tray. "Mrs. Gordon said that I needed to bring this up right away," the young man said. He was in his early twenties, I guessed and was slightly soft and pudgy, with a scruffy patch of fur under his chin.
I looked inquiringly at the tray and thought, "Yuck, hospital food!"
"No, no," the orderly responded, "this is something special that she prepared herself."
What the hell? I know I didn't say anything aloud. What was going on here – was my mind an open book all of a sudden? Could passersby hear my every thought? I looked quickly back to the young man. No response. Evidently he couldn't hear everything or he would have reacted to my barrage of questions. But why had he responded to my thoughts about the tray of food?
Then it dawned on me – I had pushed that thought outward, toward the orderly. I had wanted to complain about the food, but had not. That must be it, I realized. I had to project my thoughts to another person in order for them to hear me.
I waited patiently as he placed the tray on the incredibly awkward stand used in hospitals throughout the world to present food trays to their patients. He uncovered the tray, and I was surprised to see mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetables, some pudding desert and an array of juices. The only thing missing was the pot roast. Oh well, better than plain apple juice.
The orderly turned to leave, and as he made his way to the door, I pushed the thought out to him, "Should I call you when I'm done to get the tray."
"Just call the orderly for the tray," he said, almost as an afterthought.
He didn't realize that I had put the question in his mind! "Stop right there!" I thought.
He paused at the door, standing there woodenly, not moving.
"Turn on some lights," I thought.
He flipped the light switch, not even looking at me. Then without speaking he turned back to the door and closed it behind him as he left.
I was too excited to eat! I couldn't believe it! Somehow that lightening strike had left me with a special ability. I could read other people's thoughts and influence them with my mind. I could also communicate with them if I chose to do so.
What else could I do, I wondered. Telekinesis? Maybe. I looked at the spoon on my tray – evidently I was not to be trusted with a fork just yet. I concentrated on it. "Move," I pushed the thought out to the spoon. Nothing. I concentrated harder. "Move," I almost shouted in the silence of my mind.
Suddenly the door opened and Miss Perkins dashed in. "Are you okay, Mr. Alexander?" she cried with some alarm. "I heard you shouting!"
Oops! "Uh, sorry," I stammered, "I'm, uh, just having a bit of trouble getting my arm to move so that I can eat." Okay, so I had to say something. But she bought it.
"Oh, you poor thing," she said softly coming to my bedside, swishing her hips as she walked, "let me help."
"Uh, okay," I said. Then I thought, "but close the door first, and lock it."
She stopped in mid-swish. "Maybe I'd better close the door, though," she said, and pushed it shut. Then she gave the lock a quick twist, snapping it shut. "There," she said smiling, "that's better."
As she moved toward my bed I questioned her aloud, "Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Close and lock the door," I said.
"Oh, it just closes on its own," she said with a smile, "would you like it open?"
Wow! She didn't even realize that I had made her close and lock it.
I was about to tell her mentally to take all of her clothes off, but my stomach was reminding my how important food was at that point. She settled her petite, perfectly rounded bottom down on the side of my bed.
"Now what would you like first," she asked.
"To know your name," I thought at her.
"Mandy," she replied, but this time her lips didn't move. Okay, so when questioned directly, I could pick up the answer with my brain.